Porcelain
by Faelai
Summary: As time slows to a stop, in the midst of tragedy, we learn that fate is just a matter of time (Post Ep Milagro)


Title: Porcelain  
Author: Emily O'Donnell  
Rating: PG   
Summary: As time slows to a stop, in the midst of tragedy, we   
learn that fate is just a matter of time. . .  
Timeline: Post ep Milagro   
Spoilers: Milagro  
Category: Angst, UST, slight MSR ( you all know how rare that is   
for me g )   
Archive: Yes to Legacy and Chronicle X ( wishful thinking, I know.   
. . ) No to Gossamer. Anyone else, ask me if you want to archive.   
Disclaimer: Nope, they still don't belong to me. ::hears   
disappointed groans from crowd:: I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm   
working on Chris Carter, don't you worry. But until then, all this   
belongs to him, 10-13, FOX and so on. . .   
Author's Notes: I maintain my right to be vague while summarizing   
my own story ::sticks out tongue::   
And yes, I am still working on Tiger Lilies, don't you gals worry   
your pretty little heads about it. But I sat down and, for some   
inexplicable reason, had this incredible urge to write some post   
episode Milagro fic. So here it is, enjoy.   
Dedication: This is for Brie, since I know it's her favorite kind   
of fanfic ( NO! NOT SMUT! THE OTHER FAVORITE! ) ::watches as the   
MSRFicSupportGroup nods in belated understanding::  
  
****  
  
For a long time, the two of them lay entwined on the floor   
of his apartment. Blood smeared the floor and her skin with   
crimson and she clung to him as if her very soul depended on it.   
Tears seeped, hot from her eyes, burning his flesh through the   
thick material of his shirt, and after awhile, Fox Mulder could no   
longer determine whose tears were shed.   
  
After awhile, her shuddering sobs stilled and she relaxed in   
the warmth of his embrace. But as he attempted to pull away, her   
grip remained fierce on his arm. Her eyes were wide and she did   
not seem to be hesitant to cling to him for support, whereas just   
a few weeks earlier she would have been dreadfully ashamed.   
  
His concern for her shone through his mellifluous, dark eyes   
and he managed a wavering smile for her benefit. "It's okay,   
Scully. I'm not going to leave you."   
  
Her relief at his words were evident and she nodded   
slightly, relaxing her strained grip on his arm with the first   
hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Mulder bit his lip and   
pulled her to her feet, keeping a tight grip on her hand. His eyes   
met her own for a long moment and she dropped her gaze to their   
intertwined hands. Mulder's gaze followed, his fingers stroking   
her own in a small gesture of affection. He brought her hand up to   
his lips gently and pressed a tender, fleeting kiss on the back of   
her hand. He met her eyes one more time, relieved to see that the   
traces of fear that had been evident in those azure depths had   
vanished completely.   
  
He grinned at her once more, a tad brighter this time and   
was rewarded with her tight lipped smile which warmed his heart.   
He nodded slightly and allowed his gaze to drop to her chest, her   
shirt still hung open, she was indifferent to any concept of   
modesty around her partner after all these years.  
  
Her chest and stomach was smeared with sticky, crimson   
blood. With a trembling hand, Mulder reached out and ran his   
fingertips gently over the blood that clung to her skin, wiping   
away what he could to reveal silken porcelain underneath. His   
fingers traced the smooth, elegant curves and hollows of her   
stomach, and Mulder swallowed hard as his partner shivered under   
his touch. He narrowed his eyes slightly and allowed his trembling   
hand to fall away from her body. Scully frowned and reached out to   
turn his face towards her own, her blue eyes pleading with his   
soul.   
  
"There's nothing there, no wound. You're . . ." his gaze   
fell on her skin once more and he whispered so softly she could   
barely hear him. "Perfect. . ."   
  
Scully's eyes softened ever so slightly and Mulder stood,   
moving away from her. He vanished into the bedroom briefly and   
returned with a damp cloth and a sweatshirt. Scully was settling   
on his couch, pulling her shirt closed. Mulder stood in the   
doorway for a moment, watching his partner as she hugged herself   
tightly and slowly withdrew from him. He moved across the room and   
sat down lightly on the coffee table in front of her, reaching a   
hand out to stop her somnolent movements.   
  
"Let me," he whispered softly. He pushed the shirt aside, it   
dangled flimsily from her thin shoulders, sticking to her flesh   
with her own blood. Mulder took the cloth and ran it lightly over   
her abdomen, wiping away the crimson nectar which smudged the   
delicate faille beneath his fingertips. Scully sat, complacent,   
her breath moving slowly in and out as he cleaned her up. His hand   
moved over her breasts, wiping away the last remnants of blood,   
and yet, there was nothing sexual about the gesture. His movements   
were only full of love and concern for her.   
  
At last all the blood had been wiped away, revealing only   
purest ivory to greet his eyes. He sighed in relief at the sight   
of her smooth and unharmed skin. He pushed the once white shirt   
off her shoulders, wincing as she shuddered at the feel of wet   
blood sliding down her skin. Mulder pulled his sweatshirt down   
over her head. Scully clasped the ends of the long sleeves tightly   
as her arms slid into them and brought her knees up to her chin,   
folding her arms over them.   
  
"Is he dead?"   
  
Mulder's eyebrows furrowed and he reached out for her   
gently. "Who?"  
  
"Padgett," her lip curled in disgust at his name and Mulder   
could hear thinly disguised ire in her tone.   
  
"No, no, he's not dead . . ." He pulled his partner's thin   
hand into his own, warming her palm with his larger hand. "But I'm   
going to make sure he goes away for a long time."  
  
Scully slumped in relief, "good. . ." she whispered. She   
glanced around and slowly became aware of her surroundings,   
snapping out of the daze that had held her for the past half hour.   
A touch of color bloomed on her pale cheek and she moved away from   
Mulder.   
  
"I should go. . ." Scully suddenly felt very flustered and   
reached for the door. Mulder's hand caught her own and he met her   
timorous gaze.   
  
"You're not going anywhere, Scully. Not until we talk about   
this." He snaked one arm around her back and led her gently back   
to the couch. "Now come sit. Do you want some tea. . ." Mulder   
could feel himself babbling, but he could tell that it put Scully   
at ease. She leaned back into the soft leather of his battered   
couch and nodded. "Tea would be nice."   
  
Mulder disappeared into the kitchen, and after a moment   
Scully could hear pots banging softly and mugs clinking. She   
smiled wanly, these were the moments that she normally lived for.   
Her smile vanished however when she spotted a drying vermilion   
stain on her partner's wooden floor.   
  
Mulder's warm voice interrupted her musings. "The water is   
boiling." His breath stirred in her ear and she turned to him,   
sitting cross legged across from him.  
  
"I can't figure it out." She admitted softly. Mulder frowned   
and narrowed his eyes.   
  
"Figure what out?"   
  
"Exactly how he was doing it. . . or what he was doing."   
  
Mulder shook his head and shrugged, "I have my own theories,   
you know that."   
  
A slight grin flitted across her features and Scully nodded.   
"You always do. . ." The smile dissipated and she bit her lip. "He   
was obsessed with me."  
  
"He was sick," Mulder interjected. "A perverted wacko. Don't   
let his view on you determine yourself."   
  
Scully met his eyes hesitantly. "But that's the thing. He   
was right about some things. . ."   
  
Mulder's heart thudded painfully in his chest and he swung   
around to face her. "Like what?"  
  
Time slowed to one breathless moment and Scully's head   
drooped. Her gaze landed on her tightly clasped hands and she let   
out a heavy breath. Her hair fell in a thick drape across her   
features and she peered up at him through the scarlet strands.   
  
"Like the fact that I'm in love." She whispered quietly.   
  
Mulder could feel his heart slow to a stop, and then as she   
straightened to face him with a shy smile, he felt as if his heart   
might burst. He swallowed hard and returned her smile.   
  
"I never doubted it," he whispered in return.   
  
They stared at each other for a long moment of   
understanding. And then they both smiled.   
  
Scully leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her partner's   
forehead. "Someday we will have our own story written up."   
  
Mulder grinned ruefully and nodded. "Someday." He agreed   
quietly.   
  
Their eyes held for a long moment, and then she turned the   
door handle, and was gone.   
  
Mulder stared at the door for a long moment and then smiled.   
  
Someday, fate would catch up with them. Someday . . .   
  
****   
  
end  
  
****  
  
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